The savant had a vision.
All the scum was to be skimmed,
The limpid pool ever undimmed.
A light shimmers on the pool,
A gift from the selfsame sun
That now dries the scooped out scum.
The blue liquid eye stares now
Into its solar cousin,
A contest without an end.
The scum shines, iridescent
Sinking into the wet grass.
Mercy died.
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Author:
Nyeh (
Offline) - Published: January 20th, 2026 15:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Efrain Cajar
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